


House Party

by lampsabout



Series: Statement Fics [2]
Category: Spirit Phone - Lemon Demon (Album), The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: A statement given by one of my spirit phone inspired ocs, De-Realization, Gen, Original Statement (The Magnus Archives), Statement Fic (The Magnus Archives), stuff like that, there's referenced gore and also drug use, unreality
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-01
Updated: 2021-03-01
Packaged: 2021-03-13 22:07:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,930
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29782782
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lampsabout/pseuds/lampsabout
Summary: Statement of Laurie Stride, regarding her next door neighbor’s house party. Original statement recorded on November 3rd, 1998. Audio Recording by Jonathan Sims, the Archivist. Statement begins.
Series: Statement Fics [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2189046
Comments: 2
Kudos: 3





	House Party

**ARCHIVIST**

Statement of Laurie Stride, regarding her next door neighbor’s house party. Original statement recorded on November 3rd, 1998. Audio Recording by Jonathan Sims, the Archivist. Statement begins.

**ARCHIVIST (STATEMENT)**

My name is Laura Stride. My friends call me Laurie. I am 21 years old. I am a straight A student. I live with my two housemates. I have never drank alcohol, and I have never taken any drugs I have not been prescribed.

So, knowing that, please, please understand that I am not lying to you. None of what I am writing down here is a lie. You have to believe me.

Okay, where to begin… It was October 30th, I think. Maybe. I was home alone, studying, since I had a test for college coming up. It was a pretty boring night, I had thrown on some TV, and was mindlessly taking notes out of the textbook. It must’ve been at least 3 AM, if I remember correctly. I wasn’t tired, really. I was drinking ice water to try and keep myself awake, though the TV was doing a good job of it.

I don’t know how much time passed before I heard it. At first it wasn’t much, just some cheesy, obnoxious pop song blaring from outside my window. I groaned, hyping myself up to have to shout at some idiot to shut up. When I got to the window, I couldn’t see outside of it. It was just light. Bright, blaring neon lights. Flashing all different colors, from yellow to pink to blue, to green and back to yellow. It hurt to look at.

Regardless, I wrenched the window upwards, and stared out, my mouth open to shout, but I didn’t. I couldn’t scream, because there was nothing to scream at.

There, over my low hedge fence, was an immeasurable amount of people, all standing there, having a house party. Some were holding red solo cups, filled with a strange substance that oozed over the top. Others wore party hats and had noise makers hanging out of their mouth loosely. Some were drenched, despite there being nothing to make them as wet and as...red as they were. But, the worst part is that...they all seemed to be staring at me.

I closed the window and locked it. Just to be sure I locked my front door too. I knew my next door neighbors. We weren’t friends or anything, but we were aware of each other. A couple lived in that house. It was just them there, and they never had any visitors. From what I could gather, they didn’t have many friends to invite over.

I didn’t see the couple at that party. I didn’t see anyone I’d ever met before at that party. In fact, looking back at it, I can’t remember a single face at that party. None of them. I can’t remember any distinguishing feature, except for the eyes. Those resolute, horrible eyes looking straight back at me. 

I had sat there for a moment. Well, a few minutes more like it. I tried to keep studying, to brush it off as some weird prank, but it just wouldn’t click. So instead, I just watched the movie on the TV. It was some slasher, not much effort or budget put into it. The killer was sneaking up on his next victim, readying his knife just as my TV blinked out. In fact, my power went out. Which, wouldn’t make any sense, seeing as there was no storm, and I had just checked the fuse box a few hours ago.

Then I heard the window break. Someone was trying to get in. They probably cut the power too, didn’t they? I ran. Into a closet, under the sink, I don’t know where I hid but I hid. I clamped a hand over my mouth, and I screwed my eyes shut. Maybe they would just leave. I convinced myself it was just a normal burglar. Just some nut job who needed money and thought my house would be an easy mark. But deep, deep down inside of my head I knew it was one of those freaks from the party. Those monsters with those eyes. Those greedy, evil eyes.

My eyes were closed, but I could feel a hand curl around mine. I didn’t dare look, but someone...no,  _ something  _ took my hand. As if it was inviting me. Letting me know it was okay. Telling me to join in. It was dancing with me, for a bit. I let it lead me out of the closet and through the house. The music from outside was louder. It was in my house. As if their boombox had invaded my space. The hand left mine and covered my eyes. I opened them, and I was at a party.

Crowds of people filled my living room, the neon colors filling my home like an infectious disease. And then I was dancing. The music was...good. It wasn’t as obnoxious and cheesy as it had been. It was fun. Popular. I felt good, letting my body thrum to the beat. There was a disco ball, I remember. Someone slipped a cup into my hand. I didn’t even look at the contents of the drink, I just chugged it down. It only made me feel better. I danced like my life depended on it. I was the life of the party. I was with my people now. I was surrounded by people who loved my presence and I loved theirs. I having a blast. Looking back on it, I should’ve been terrified. But no, no, it was...delightful. 

At some point I was hitting a pinata. I was having such a good time. I beat the pinata like I was killing my worst enemy, and I devoured the candy that poured out of it like it was water in the Sahara Desert. I was drinking again. I was laughing, I was laughing so hard I might’ve thrown up. I just kept drinking. I was dancing, and I had never felt better.

I woke up the next morning. The paint chips flaked off my walls like I had never seen before. I was still in my house, I could tell that much. My housemates must not have come home last night. I wasn’t too concerned about it. I must’ve fell asleep on my couch, considering that’s where I was sleeping. I kicked a leg over the couch, only to hear a crunch. I looked down to see my notes, soaked with...something and now unusable. I didn’t care too much.

I looked around, seeing that, no, it wasn’t morning. The sky was still dark outside. The sun wasn’t rising. Odd. I tried to ignore it, and I checked the clock. It was late, I knew that much, but I couldn’t even check the time. The hour hand was missing. The second I realized that, I felt my hand grip it. Oh. I had been holding it the whole time. Strange.

Why was it red? It had been black, judging by the clock. What had stained it? I flushed those thoughts from my mind, only to find myself focused on the sudden raging thunderstorm outside. When had it started raining? We never got rain around here. I tried to focus, to remember what happened, but nothing came to my mind. I dropped the clock hand, only to find it fell into a pile of dust on the floor. Thin, white dust. In fact, it was caking my entire floor. I remembered that people had been here, some time ago. When, I didn’t know. But people had been here, and now, there was dust.

Only then did the situation send a shiver down my spine. I retreated to the kitchen. I needed to calm myself down, eat something to ground myself. But the kitchen didn’t help. I just saw hundreds of half-empty beer bottles in the sink. I never drank, and neither did my housemates. Who was here? I got closer, realizing it wasn’t just beer bottles. There was bottled water, glasses of substances I didn’t recognize, and didn’t want to recognize. Green ooze bottled up in the drain, though it didn’t smell bad. Nor did it look bad. In fact, I was rather parched. I could drink it.

Instead, I just turned on the garbage disposal, watching as it tried and failed to destroy the now creaking plastic and struggling glass bottles. The glass cut at me as it flew, but I didn’t feel it. Suddenly I felt the urge to retch. I ran to the bathroom, and puked into the toilet as hard as I could. I flushed it down the drain, and bent over the sink, heaving desperately.

I looked at myself, but I didn’t see myself. I saw someone else. No, it was me. No it wasn’t. The person in the mirror had my face, maybe. She had my eyes, except for the color and shape. She had my hair, except she didn’t. I couldn’t remember anything about her. Or about me. Who was I? Was I even a person? My hands gripped the edges of the sink, and I felt strong. My fingers were growing. Longer, sharper. My face was changing. I watched in awe as my features flickered between different expressions, different hair, different eyes, different mouths different noses different grins different tears different clothes, different everything. I laughed. I smiled, and laughed and laughed and laughed and laughed until I wanted to cry. But it wasn’t even that funny. No one was laughing.

I didn’t want to watch. But it was mesmerizing. My eyes were already shut tight. I was still laughing. I sank down to my knees, laughing. Then, ever so quietly, I heard a voice. A slight, miniscule whisper in my ear. I don’t remember what it told me. But I remember being so, so excited.

And I was at the party again. But I could see. I could see everything. And I had never been happier. I was invited. They wanted me here. They wanted me to see, to party, to drink, to let loose. To have a good fucking time. And have a good time I did!    
  
The pinatas, when I beat them, I could hear them scream. I could hear their families beg me to stop, but I beat it harder, just to hear how far they would go, to hear what they would give me. Pinatas aren’t supposed to bleed. In fact, this one did. 

I drank. And I smoked. And I partied. I had a good time. And no one was going to stop me. I invited more people to come join the party too! People like that pinata. People all across my street. Everyone could come and have a good time! Why would anyone run away? All they had to do was give in.

You want to party too, don’t you? I can see you. In your little chair, writing something while I record my statement. You astound me. Gertrude, right? Oh, you and your friends here look like they could use a little party, don’t they?

Well, once the invitation has been extended, it’s too late, anyhow. I trust you’ll have a wonderful time!

**ARCHIVIST** **  
****  
** Statement ends. Well, Ms. Stride was certainly involved with the entities as we know them. Her hysteria and dream like haze tell me she had some involvement with the Spiral or the Stranger...but I can’t bring myself to analyze her story further. I just...feel sorry for her.


End file.
